Two Goofs, One Love
by Durriken
Summary: Max really likes Roxanne, but does she like him back? Grab a can of cheddar whizzy and let's find out.
1. Max

**A/N**: Roxanne is special on a 'first waifu' basis, so I'm definitely gonna do more with her in the future. Regardless, sit back, relax, and enjoy!

Chapter One: Max

* * *

_Okay, Max, okay, be cool. You got this, you got all of this, every single bit of it, yeah… you're cool, icy cool even, so cool you're causing ice fronts all up and down the hall—_

"YO MAXIMUS!"

The voice that erupted just behind him nearly caused Max to give the most high-pitched scream of his short life, and the only thing that stopped it was the hand he slapped over his mouth.

"I can't help but notice that you seem to be sorely lacking in the cheese department, Maxim," his best friend, Bobby, exclaimed with that all-too-eager grin of his, and he indicated to the can of Cheddar Whizzy in his hand. "You ready to get cheesed or what?"

Any other time—literally _any other time_—Max still would have declined the generous offer to get 'cheesed' but he had to especially decline right now.

"Bobby, dude, what the—no, I'm not ready to get cheesed, man, when am I ever ready for that?" Max snapped, frantically glancing back around the corner. He saw a lot of the regular cliques: the jocks, the cheerleaders, the science nerds, the comic geeks, he saw every one of them… except for her, except his reason to breathe, his goddess. And for that, he gave a sigh of relief. "Dude, Bobby… you can't be on that crazy cheese tip today, man, not today."

Bobby reared back like he was a vampire and Max had just pelted him with garlic. "Blasphemy, my dude! _Every_ day is cheese day, and this day even more-so," Bobby went on excitedly, and he threw an arm around Max's neck, dragging his reluctant friend in closer. "Because today, ooooh, today… what we have here is—"

With a grand flourish, Bobby flipped the can upright—

"—a brand spanking new flavor!"

—and what Max saw caused his stomach to flip.

"Blue… wait a minute…." Squinting, praying that he wasn't seeing right, Max pointed with a finger. "Does… does that say blueberry flavor?"

"Yup!" Bobby remarked proudly.

"As in blueberry flavored cheese?"

"Indeed, bruh!"

From where Max was standing, there was absolutely nothing about that can, the cheese, or the revolting flavor of said cheese to be excited about. The twisted mind behind such a invention needed a swift bat to the knee in Max's opinion but there were literal stars glistening just under Bobby's shades, like he had just found his true love.

"They've been hyping this flavor up all month and _finally_! It's here! And look it, when I tell ya it's good? It's soooo good," Bobby drawled, and he rubbed the can up and down his cheek so sensually that Max felt his left eye twitch. Then he turned to Max with an inquisitive stare. "Hey, Maximo, wanna try some?"

"I'd rather drink bleach," Max replied evenly.

Shrugging, Bobby popped off the lid—"Suit yourself, man"—placed the nozzle between his lips, and pushed down until his cheeks bulged.

If Max hadn't been nauseated before, and he'd been firmly in the realm of 'taste it at the back of your throat' territory, he was now in full-on stomach-churning mode. Blueberry flavored spray cheese was a bad enough transgression against humanity on its own but to watch as Bobby began to openly laugh with his mouth full pushed Max into a whole new level of bothered, especially when blue streaks of cheese dribbled over his friends bottom lip.

"Bobby. You're so gross, man," Max sighed, inching his head around the corner for another look. "Hope you don't choke on that nasty cheese 'cause I sure don't know the Heimlich maneu—"

His breath staggered.

There she was.

And there went his heart, instantly leaping into his throat with such vigor that he started to sputter like a dying car. To anyone else, the way Max started to frantically point and hyperventilate might have been confusing, or at least worthy of a sedative, but not to Bobby. He knew why his friend was spazzing out and hurriedly swallowed his mouthful of cheese.

"Max—MAX, hey—look at me, dude!" Bobby called and he had to grab Max by the shoulders to straighten him out. "You don't gotta tell me who's around that corner, I already know. Just like _you_ know you got this, buddy! C'mon, we practiced for this, remember? This time is different, you're not covered in cheese, okay? You're clean, dressed right, this ain't nothing, you got this."

Nodding sporadically to those encouraging words, Max tried to respond but his throat was dry and his tongue didn't want to follow orders.

"Guh frrrrnmgh—gibba gabba," he choked out nonsensically, and Bobby gave him a forceful shake.

"Focus up, bruh, it's show time." Nodding and squeezing Max by the shoulders, Bobby threw up the peace sign, turned, and started down the hall at a quick pace. "I'll catch up with you later, do your thing," he called, pulling out his can of blueberry Cheddar Whizzy for a few mouth-filling tugs.

It probably would have helped Max a little more mentally if P.J. could have been there with him, but his portlier friend had called out sick after going overboard at an all-you-can-eat buffet the day prior. Although, true to Bobby's words, this time was already different—and miles better—than last time, the dreaded incident that left Max, Bobby, and P.J. covered in jalapeño-flavored cheese from an exploded can.

_You're fine Max,_ he thought reassuringly, rubbing himself down and checking his shirt for wrinkles. _You're cheese-free, the hallway's empty, wore your good clothes—_

"Totally fine," he remarked to himself.

"What's totally fine, Max?"

Quick and fast, the scream rose in Max's throat but he grunted it back down, thudding himself on the chest. That familiar candied perfume of hers tickled his nostrils like it always did while her angelic voice made his heart sing and stomach quiver accordingly; it all painted her perfect image on the canvass of his mind.

He tried to reply with a very suave, very bold "You are" like he had practiced over and over in the mirror that morning, complete with a smooth turn around and a grin, but his tongue chose that moment to swell to twice its size and not only did he wind up squeaking out what could have been, he stumbled over his feet mid-turn and nearly threw himself to the ground.

_Take me now, God, just… go ahead, I'm done with this life, thanks._

The giggle that met Max's ears was the single most sweetest sound he had ever heard and despite thoroughly wishing for the ground to just swallow him whole, he gathered the courage to glance up.

The girl standing there was Roxanne, one of the most popular girls at school and the very drive that kept Max coming back day after day. Never mind the benefits of a higher education, a promise of a better life, no—this girl right here, this angel in the flesh with a smile softer than silk was the sole reason Max was in the running to receive the Perfect Attendance trophy at the end of the year. Cliché tags such as 'smart' and 'beautiful' just didn't do Roxanne's character justice in the slightest; there was just something about her that radiated from her smile, her walk, her eyes, helplessly dragging Max into her orbit.

And he didn't mind one bit.

In fact, he welcomed it. He welcomed whatever stupid act he had to go through if it got her to laugh, much like now. That sound, her teasing giggle, it was aimed at him, and he delighted in it.

Yet, as Max continued to marvel just being in her presence, there was something else that quickly took hold of his attention. Now, Roxanne had worn those signature jean shorts of hers before, many times actually, to the point where Max figured they were a staple favorite of hers, but this… these must have been a new pair because they were significantly tighter than he remembered. Far tighter. To the point where he was actively taking notice of her figure for the first time since falling head over heels….

_C'mon, Max, remember: don't be a goof, keep it aloof._

That was his mantra, his way of internally separating his father's goofy antics away from his own, and while saying that in his mind strengthened him mentally, physically he could feel his face growing several brilliant shades of red. Because Roxanne had a body: from the way her shorts pinched at the waist, they opened out into a seductive pair of hips that had Max tracing that enticing curve with his eyes. How had he never noticed that before? Had he truly been that blind? And her legs, by the Goof's above, they were _so_ smooth, glistening even, all the way down to her feet that were covered by those trademark white ballet shoes.

_Is it weird that… that I kinda wanna lick her ankles?_

"So," Roxanne started conversationally, and the sheer timber of her voice caused Max to straighten up like a robot, "I, uh, see you're not covered in cheese this time. That's good." She gave an impressed little nod, grinning somewhat, and Max inwardly sank in on himself. Of course she'd remember that. "What flavor was that anyway? Red cheese… I'm guessing something spicy?"

"Er, it was, um…." That wish to fade into oblivion came back full force and Max tugged on the collar of his shirt. "Jalapeño," he responded weakly, waiting for the ridicule to follow, some derisive crack regarding how he'd almost been blinded that day, or how he hopped around screaming about cheese in his ass.

To his utmost surprise, Roxanne smiled, and it was filled with so much warmth that he almost gave her one in return. Almost. "Mmmm, jalapeño… now _that_ sounds like it would go well with some nachos, doesn't it?" she asked in earnest.

To be honest, not really, but Max double-dog dared himself to speak it aloud; he was far too relieved that she hadn't made fun of him to ruin the moment. "Y-yeah, it—that does sound pretty delicious," he smirked, rubbing behind his neck. "You, uh, you like nachos?"

"Love 'em," Roxanne gushed with a hand to her chest. "I especially love the really big nachos, you know, the triangular ones? That's when I get to activate my special double-dipping powers," she added almost proudly, and she placed a hand on her hip rather indignantly when Max cocked a brow. "Oh, don't give me that look, buster, that's what you do when you have more than one cheese, isn't it?"

The way Roxanne tilted her hips with that haughty flair struck Max below the belt in the best way. Fortunately, before his intensified staring and prolonged silence could drag past the point of acceptance, his mouth came to the rescue. "Ooooh, oh right, that's… yeah, okay, I get you now. See, what I thought you meant was you dipped, took a bite, then dipped again."

The very insinuation of such a thing brought disgust to Roxane's face and her nose crinkled accordingly. "Ewww, no, that's just disrespectful," she said with a soft giggle. "That's caveman-tier."

"More like Bobby-tier," Max added, chuckling.

"Yeah, your friend's a bit… cheese addicted, I've noticed," she said genially.

"Sometimes, when it's quiet and the weather is just right, I like to think what sort of cheese experiment went horribly wrong and created Bobby in the aftermath," Max said rather thoughtfully, and when Roxanne started to laugh, there was no accounting for the sheer amount of confidence that swelled behind his chest.

That was at least twice now that he had made her honestly, genuinely laugh. Add to it, he was speaking in full sentences, he hadn't tripped over himself, there was no cheese in his hair—everything was great.

And then Max found himself laughing with her.

_No…._

Unable to stop even if he wanted to, he continued to laugh.

_No, no, no, this is how it starts! You got too comfortable—abort laughter, abort laughter now!_

Until he felt it burst from his throat before he could stop it.

"_Ah-HYUCK!_"

Not even clapping both hands to his mouth could keep that stupid laugh from getting out, and for a few seconds, as it echoed up and down the bare hallways, Max was frozen, eyes wide, heart thudding painfully against his ribcage. Nothing jumped to mind to save himself, all brain activity had ceased—

"I… w-wait, I… th-that wasn't—" he tried to say, fumbling over even the most basic of words. "It's… it's…."

First, it was the hereditary laugh, then came the hereditary stuttering when nervous, both of them perfectly synched up to make sure this would go down as the worst day of Max's life. So when Roxanne began to smile, lifting a hand to her mouth in an attempt at hiding it, all the confidence he had built up in the moment shattered like a rock breaking through glass and he took off in the opposite direction. He thought he heard her call after him but between his pounding heart and the sound of his sneakers stomping over the tiled floors, he knew that was impossible. After how he had just embarrassed himself, why would she be calling him? He saw how she was about to laugh, but in typical Roxanne fashion, she tried not to show it to spare his feelings.

_I'm such a goof…._

It was a moot point trying to concentrate through his first two classes. They whizzed by in a blur of garbled voices and the incessant scrape of chalk against the blackboard. Max didn't catch a lick of the lessons being taught, what he needed to study for, or what homework the teachers had bombarded him with. All of it was background noise next to the crushing weight of his second failed attempt with Roxanne.

_And it had started out so well, too_, he thought with an inward groan as he tried to open his locker for the third blessed time, but like the first two attempts, he was so distracted that he fumbled the combination.

"Hey, there he is! The Goofinator!" That was Bobby calling, waving as he squeezed through the swaths of other students to reach his friend. "Lunch time, bro! But first… how'd it go with the crimson lily? Less cheesy, more breezy?"

The utter look of disdain that contorted Max's face was enough of an answer without him having to part his lips and Bobby nodded solemnly, lifting his trusty can of cheddar whiz. "Cheese, man? It'll heal what ails you, promise."

In a flash of blinding anger, Max snatched the can and had every intention of chucking it as far down the hall as he possibly could. But he didn't. He froze in an awkward position with his arm raised, bypassing the confused look that Bobby was giving him, and seemed to struggle with himself for a few tense seconds, grunting and twitching, until he subsided into a dragging sigh.

"Whatever…." Max jammed the nozzle between his lips and pushed until his cheeks bulged with cheese.

"There it is!" Bobby cheered, punching the air with a fist. "There we go, man, you got it!"

Surprisingly, as Max forced himself to swallow, blueberry-flavored cheese was even more disgusting than he previously thought it would be. The mass of cheese byproduct dropped into his stomach with all the tenderness of a brick and he angrily filled his mouth again, determined to replace his feelings of inadequacy with the nausea this cheese was bringing.

"Mhm, exactly," Bobby nodded, as if knowing exactly what Max was going through. He threw a comforting arm around his silently fuming friend and steered him toward the cafeteria. "Inhale the cheese, dude, imbibe the cheese… the cheese is your friend, your guide… let it lead you to self-discovery."

* * *

_Or right to the bathroom_, Max thought irritably as he flushed the toilet an hour later. His stomach gave another ominous rumble and he gripped it with a wince. This wasn't the normal case of upset stomach that came with whatever reheated hash they served for lunch, no… this was because of Bobby and that corroded cheese in a can from earlier, finally working its way through his system and nearly causing him to blow out his pants.

As if the day wasn't already bad enough to warrant stepping full-on into traffic, the thought of accidentally shitting himself in front of the entire student body was biblically terrible.

"Point blank, I'd have to move away, start up a new identity," Max chuckled wryly, washing his hands. "Give up on everything, on my friends… P.J. and… and Bobby…." He absentmindedly pushed open the stall door, putting his legs on auto-pilot while he gave serious thought to the ramifications of moving away and starting a new life, weighing the pros and cons. "Not like I can move away from my laugh, though, right? Pretty sure that's hardcoded into my DNA. And then"—he swallowed at the lump forming in his throat—"w-what about Roxanne?"

"What about me, Max?"

BAM!

The sound of Max's forehead cracking off his locker was loud and unsettling, but the sudden sound of Roxanne's voice really left him with no other option other than to pitch forward in surprise.

"Owwww… ow, ow, ow, _son of a—_" Max clamped his mouth shut with a strangled grunt, vigorously rubbing the angry patch of red skin over his temple that he could already feel beginning to bruise. He could only blame himself, really, since he didn't even know he had made it to the lockers and had probably been standing there looking like a right fool when Roxanne showed up.

Several students traversing the halls began to snicker behind raised hands and point with mile-long fingers, and as they did that, as Max stood there with his shoulders hunched and cheeks burning a spectacular scarlet, it seemed that just when he thought he had hit rock bottom with no possible way for things to get worse, somehow a shovel clattered to the ground in front of him.

Through the whispers came a sharp gasp and before Max could even begin to process where it came from, someone had placed their cool, little palm over that purpling patch of skin, applying a soothing pressure. He stared under the hand at his temple and saw Roxanne staring right back at him. She was clutching a couple books to her chest with her free arm and aiming a gentle smirk in his direction.

"Is this some sort of pre-test ritual that you've been keeping from me?" she wondered teasingly, moving her thumb in comforting circles. "Does it work on any locker or does it have to be mine? Can I use yours?"

It was as if the sneering dissenters around them were nothing but background noise to Roxanne while she caressed just under Max's hairline. There was concern there, glinting just beyond those eyes aimed only at him, but she hid it well behind an easy smile. And it was probably that same smile that caused a wave of ease to flow throughout the other students because many fingers lowered, the snide whispering died away, and the crowd began to move back into its previous rhythm.

Moments like these always left Max in awe. It was common knowledge around the school that despite her extremely down-to-earth demeanor and lack of encircling drama, Roxanne was one of, if not the _most_, popular girl to grace these halls. Which was a subject of immense curiosity as she regularly avoided the other popular kids in favor of hanging with those deemed by and large as 'regular'.

And there she was, tending to his goofy ass. Given her notoriety, he suddenly felt unworthy of her touch and shrank out from under it, trying his best to stand up and reclaim some of his lost pride.

"Er, no, I… I was just, you know, just… gone, kinda—I was miles away," he admitted with a sigh, making a flyaway motion with his hand.

"Oh? Why? Is something bothering you?" she wondered, looking at him expectantly, almost as if she was really interested in what he had to say.

And Max knew she was, because she was that type of person. She sincerely wanted to know if he was okay. "No, no, it's nothing big or… just thoughts and…." Meeting her inquiring gaze was incredibly hard on several levels and Max grimaced, finally managing to put in the correct combination to his locker. He snatched it open to hide his face. "Nothing, it's nothing, I'm fine," he answered, pulling a couple books from within. Even if he had no intention whatsoever of paying attention, he had to at least make it _look_ like he cared.

"Nuh-uh, that's not fair, Max, it drives me _crazy_ when people do that," Roxanne pouted, and no matter how annoyed or flustered Max happened to be, the way she puffed out her cheeks and scrunched up her face was almost enough to send him into cardiac arrest. "Out with it, buster."

_Sweet baby goofenstein, she's… so… freaking… cute!_

He certainly held no illusions that Roxanne considered him anything more than the goofy boy she met in the hallways from time to time, so it was more than a little surprising when every time they crossed paths, she seemed to know just a little bit more about him despite their conversations never really breaching anything personal.

"What were you going to say—what thoughts about me?" Roxanne pressed, and to his surprise, she took a rather intimidating step forward, getting so close that she had to incline her head, those adorably searching eyes meeting his head-on. "Say it, Max, what?"

_Does my breath still smell like blueberry cheese?_

He hoped it didn't as he closed his locker and turned to face the girl that was well within his personal space. He could just about count her lashes, could definitely catch hints of whatever strawberry-based perfume she wore. "I… was gonna ask if you wanted to go to the movies after school today. With me, I mean. Together."

Under normal circumstances, Max would have never had the courage to ask that question at pointblank range, at least not without a gun pressed to his temple. But today had been a total mess from start to finish and he didn't see it getting any better so why not? What was there left to be afraid of? That she would laugh at him? She had already done that, twice. That she would say no? That was literally an assured outcome so the fear of it was lost on him in the moment.

The look of surprise that overtook Roxanne's face coupled by the way she lifted a hand to her mouth was evidence that she clearly hadn't been expecting him to say that—or maybe it was his sudden boldness that had her stunned? Either way, her expression was priceless, the way her eyebrows lifted, the way those soft lips of hers slowly formed a coquettish grin—

Wait.

Huh?

"So, that's it, hm? That's why you've been acting weird all day?" she wondered, shifting her stance to give Max a playful bump with her hips. The softness there, that he felt even through her jean shorts, almost buckled Max's legs and he had to fight to repress a groan that rose in his throat. She tucked a stray lock of crimson hair behind her ear and fixed him with a smile so radiant that Max temporarily forgot how to breathe. "You want to take me to the movies?"

This was nothing like how Max envisioned it going, not at all. After his question, he had expected laughter, the harsh, ridiculing kind, followed by a swift decline, and then for news of his hilariously failed attempt to spread like wildfire throughout the school. He had seen it happening so clearly—but this… the way she was regarding him with that altogether pleased expression….

He refused to believe what his heart was trying to tell him, that he actually had a chance, that if he thought about it, Roxanne never showed anyone else the kind of attention she was currently gracing him with. A few kind words here, a piece of advice there, maybe a passing laugh or chuckle, that's all anyone usually got from the long-haired seductress, but not Max. With him there were long conversations between classes, rounds of genuine laughter, an interest in the things he liked, and what he was just starting to realize was a tendency for Roxanne to know exactly where to find him.

His heart was desperately throwing up all those moments and more, trying to piece together a picture that he should have seen a long time ago while his brain was doing its best to shoot down each of those realizations with a pessimistic logic, to remind him that life didn't work out that way.

Not for guys like him.

"Yeah," he found himself uttering, and it took all the courage he possessed and then some to reach out and take one of her hands in his.

A hue of red colored Roxanne's cheeks. Her eyes shot down to her hand, enclosed almost entirely within his, then slowly up into his face. "Max…?"

_Now or never, Maximilian Goof._

"The thing is, Roxanne, I've… I've always—" Moreso than the nausea that he caught from that abominable blueberry cheese, Max had never experienced his stomach knot with such dread. There was nothing but a five-foot-something girl before him but in his mind, talking to her, trying to get these words out, it was like trying to defeat a fire-breathing dragon with a stick. A stick that was snapped in half.

The look in Roxanne's eyes showed she was carefully taking in his every word, almost yearningly. "Y-yeah…?"

Her hand was still in his, Max realized dimly. She hadn't pulled back or recoiled and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why. In fact, she seemed to be squeezing, a gentle reassuring pressure, and if Max didn't know any better he would swear that right now, in this moment… Roxanne was just as nervous and anxious as he was.

_I'm such a damn goof…._

Words wouldn't work right now, and Max knew it. Mostly because how he felt about Roxanne transcended mere syllables… it was more a sensation, a spark behind his chest that went off like fireworks at the mere sight of her. As a result, he could barely breathe in her grace, the entire world fell away into the background….

_Okay, heart…._

For the first time, Max could see it in her eyes, nestled deep in those pupils fixed on him. He saw the care there, the attention and effort that she reserved specifically for him.

_I'm gonna listen to you._

Max lifted the knuckle of his forefinger to just under Roxanne's chin. She followed his touch wordlessly, immediately, further inclining her head—

_I'm gonna listen._

And he kissed her.

And it was the sweetest, softest thing he had ever experienced in his life, so much so that an addiction was formed on the spot, right then and there in the span of a heartbeat. The subtle twang of her lips felt like the missing puzzle piece to his life and now that he had sampled it, he knew that he would want more—no, that he would _need_ more.

On the edge of his hearing, Max picked up a dozen or so gasps erupting around them from the other students observing their intimate scene in the middle of the hall. And, oddly enough, he found he didn't care—and why would he? He was kissing the girl of his dreams; the bliss pulsing in his veins and thundering through his heart couldn't be staunched by the views of those who never mattered.

_The stares never bothered me anyway,_ he thought firmly, and when it seemed like they had passed into day two of their kiss, Max reluctantly pulled back. He could feel his face burning, knew he was blushing, but he was delighted to see that it looked as though someone had burst a whole tomato over Roxanne's face so red were her cheeks.

She lifted a couple fingers to her lips, touching them gingerly, never once breaking eye contact. "Yes," she said breathlessly.

"Hm?" Max blinked, confused. "Yes wh—oh… oh, you mean about the movies? You'll go with me?" His face lit up with a goofy smile. "O-okay, awesome, um… so what did you wanna s—"

He abruptly fell silent when Roxanne shook her head, those supple lips of hers forming the cutest of smiles. "Not yes to that," she started coyly, "I meant 'yes' to the other question you haven't asked yet…."

Brain-numb, Max still wasn't following. "Huh? What other question?"

Giggling, Roxanne stretched up onto her toes. "Yes, you goof, I'll be your girlfriend."

If someone had told Max that a day where he caught explosive diarrhea from blueberry flavored cheese whizz would also wind up being the single greatest day of his life, he would have straight up 'hyuk'd all in their face.

As it stood, Max could only stare even after Roxanne kissed him. It was little more than a glancing caress of her lips, the barest of kisses, but the emotion she passed on came across crystal clear and Max beamed.

"Nice," he muttered, borderline drooled out, and Roxanne gave a patient roll of her eyes. "So, did you… did you wanna leave or—you know, ditch and—"

"_Ditch_?" The word passed Roxanne's lips in a foreign and hostile tone, like she couldn't believe such a thing existed, and damn if Max didn't chuckle when she took her hand back and put it on her hip. "Nuh-uh, _we_"—and she indicated to herself then Max—"don't ditch classes, _dear_," she stressed. "We don't ditch, we don't skip or hop—"

"Do we trot?" he wondered genially, and when she fixed him with that narrow-eyed glare for his cheek, Max quickly learned that Roxanne was the type of girl whose sexiness only increased when she got annoyed or angry. Her posture, the angle of her hips, the way her foot tapped along impatiently—the urge to take her in his arms was almost unbearable. "I'm joking, Rox'," he told her hastily. "I'm gonna go to all of my classes, every single one, and I'm gonna get perfect scores."

That was clearly a lie, and Roxanne very obviously knew that, but it worked in softening the sharp lines of scorn etched onto her face. "Hmph, we'll see, won't we?" she shot back, though shades kinder, and she playfully traced a heart over his chest. "Get your books and don't be late, okay?"

"I won't."

"Meet me at my house after school?"

"I'll meet you after your last class and _walk _you to your house," Max offered instead.

"Even better," she smiled with a small wave. "See you later, Max."

The fact that Roxanne hadn't said 'bye' didn't go by unnoticed. Saying bye after this, after _all_ of this, would have left a sour note on what Max hoped was a blossoming relationship. He didn't ever want there to be any goodbye's if he could help it, not when he had waited so long.

"See ya later, Rox'."

And that was that. Mission accomplished, all he had to do was turn around and walk away. Simple. Yet, as he proceeded to do just that, Max couldn't help but notice that Roxanne was taking her sweet time as well, that they were both slowly turning while making sure to keep eye contact.

_So it's like that, huh?_

Throwing caution to the wind, Max spun back around and when Roxanne mirrored him, he couldn't help but offer up a challenging grin, one that she returned with verve.

_Yeah, it's like that._

He started walking backwards and, almost as if coming to the same idea, Roxanne matched him step for step. Yeah, it was utterly childish and silly, but it also incredibly fun even if was somewhat of an inconvenience to the stunned onlookers who were forced to part like the red sea so the newly joined couple could continue their… whatever it was they were doing.

"See ya later, Rox'," Max called again, blindly feeling behind him.

"No, I'll see_ you_ later, Max!" Roxanne countered, her steps exhibiting far more grace and poise as she put those ballerina shoes to good use, elegantly avoiding any behind her.

"Uh-uh, I'll be seeing _you_ later!" retorted Max, stumbling.

"Yeah, after I see _you_ later!"

That was perhaps the most nonsensical thing Max had ever heard Roxanne say. It also happened to be the cutest, this competitive side of her. She really didn't want to lose whatever it was they were doing and it quickly turned into a shouting match the further away every step backwards took them.

Max cupped a hand around his mouth. "SEE YA LATER!" he yelled joyously, nearly trodding over someone who failed to get out of his way in time.

Roxanne was outright laughing as she approached her end of the hallway. "SEE YOU SOONER THAN LATER!"

_Oh, she's good_, Max thought, impressed, but he was beyond determined, and he knew exactly what he needed to say to win.

The truth.

"I LOVE YOU, ROXANNE!"

His declaration boomed down the corridor like a cannon, barreling into every functioning ear in the vicinity, and even from his distance, Max could see the color flooding Roxanne's face. He took immense pleasure in the way she started to bite on her bottom lip—she looked so damn sexy—and then she was twirling a lock of that crimson hair around her pointing finger, a clear sign that she was flustered beyond recovery.

Caught up in cataloguing every little visual shift in Roxanne's posture, including the sultry, half-lidded stare she was leveling him with, it took Max a couple seconds to realize that the entire hallway had erupted in applause. He couldn't even spare the necessary brain cells to parse the reason why—or why several hands were clapping him over the back and ruffling his hair—because the only thing he noticed was that Roxanne hadn't responded, she was still gnawing on her bottom lip.

_Which means… so that means I won! _Max thought, and a ridiculously wide smile split his face from ear to ear. _Oh man, victory is so sweet—_

And then he saw her inhale.

—_and extremely short-lived, I guess._

"I LOVE YOU MORE, MAX!"

The cheers got louder, someone was giving Max a very hearty noogie—"The goof kid did it!"—and several class doors were being kicked open by several extremely peeved teachers. As threats of detention and suspension were dropped with all the intensity of mortar strikes, Max felt himself being pulled further down the hall, swept up in a mob of rushing students, but even through the haze of bodies, Roxanne stood out like a beacon. Her eyes were just as steadily trained on him even as she was dragged to safety.

"_I win_," she mouthed with a victorious smirk before disappearing around the corner.

And oddly enough, as he was snatched along by Bobby, who was laughing and cheering his throat raw, it was a battle that Max didn't mind losing in the slightest.

* * *

**A/N**: From the beginning, I was gonna GRRM this and tell it from Roxanne's POV because it would have been cute as hell and filled in how she felt and what she did, but the pages got away from me and this ending seemed good enough. (unless you wanna see it from Roxanne's side then lemme know) **#yearoftheoneshot**


	2. Roxanne

**A/N**: I know what I _said _this was gonna be, but it didn't turn out that way. Not even close. But ah well, that's the way writing goes sometimes, ya know? Anyway, enjoy.

Chapter Two: Roxanne

* * *

He didn't know.

Of course he didn't, how could he?

In what world did a girl walk right up to a boy that she had eyes on, or even liked, and admit such a thing? Not in this world, not in _her_ world, at least; such a thing was unheard of, being so bold, so brash, so... dominating. Because that's how it came across, in her mind at least—it came off as extremely dominating, and she felt that was the boy's territory.

Yes, boy's were supposed to be the ones to make the first move, they were the ones who were supposed to summon the courage, walk up to the girl, and profess their feelings. And why? Because it was the girl's job to provide a way for _that_ to happen. A boys job was to ask, a girl's job was to make it easier for them to do so, mostly by being the first one to make eye-contact, to laugh at their jokes, to show they reciprocated the boy's thus far unspoken attraction through subtle body movements like leaning in or brushing shoulders or playfully hitting them.

So in the end, it was fair, it balanced out. Girl's were supposed to open the door, boy's were supposed to walk through.

And thus, the world of relationships would continue to turn as normal.

So, naturally, Max didn't know. He didn't now how popular he was with the girls. And what made things worse was that some of those girls were the kinds to throw the aforementioned balance completely off course. They were the loud types, boisterous and commanding, not afraid to _take_ what they wanted or proclaim their standing.

The exact opposite of how Roxanne knew she was. And she couldn't even begin to fake like she was on their level when it came to asserting herself, because she wasn't. Granted, she knew she wasn't weak, not by a long shot, but she believed in the firmly established rule of waiting for the boy to ask, even if she had already snatched open the door so hard that it nearly came off the hinges.

And still, Max hadn't walked through.

God above, she found his hesitancy as cute as she did utterly exasperating.

Roxanne didn't like to associate herself with most of the girls at her school—in fact, Stacey, bless her manic heart, could be considered the only girl she felt a true kinship with—so that naturally left her out of the loop in several areas, such as what was currently popular with her gender concerning fashion and accessories and whatnot. And Roxanne didn't mind. Honestly, she didn't care. She had her own style, her own sense of what was cool; she didn't need some gossip magazine to dictate her life, it felt belittling. So she didn't even try to converse with the girls who's lives _did_ revolve around such things because she already knew they wouldn't have much in common anyway.

But she shared gym class with a majority of the loudest ones, and that was when she learned with a pang of dread that Max was far more sought after than she previously thought.

"Girl... when I tell you he was looking like a snack yesterday, I mean a whoooole snack!" Lisa was saying animatedly, and as she wiggled out of her gym shorts, Roxanne couldn't help but notice the effortless sensuality that went into such a motion.

"And who're you talking about again? Chad?"

"Chad? Oh gawd, no, gag me with a horse, never again," Lisa shuddered, and a few of the other girls giggled.

"From what we heard, didn't he already gag you?" a brunet asked teasingly, making an obscene motion with her hands.

This kind of conversation was enough to bring a full-on blush stampeding onto Roxanne's face and she hastily buried herself in her locker to keep it hidden. With Lisa's locker directly next to her on the right, it wasn't hard to miss when the glamorous blonde sucked her teeth, probably rolling her eyes, too.

"The only thing he had me gagging on was his stench," she retorted, flipping her locks and reaching for her pants. "Never thought I'd have to teach a grown ass man how to properly bathe. Just... at what point do you realize that the strength of your body odor goes against the Geneva Convention?"

"Grody with a capital G," a shorter girl groaned with a disgusted face.

"Tell me about it. And he had the _audacity_ to think I would put that stinky thing in my mouth! Just all out the blue—no washing, no cologne, I'm talking straight from the game to my mouth. I almost hit him." After pulling on her pants and fastening the belt, Lisa pulled out her signature black sports bra, the one that definitely went against the school dress code but mysteriously went unnoticed by all the teachers. "So I left him," she shrugged uncaringly, like Chad had been some sort of trading card. "And you know what they say, when you freely let go, a new garage door opens."

"That's not at all what they say," a heavyset girl pointed out, one of with far more self-confidence than Roxanne would ever possess if she thought she would actually look decent in that tight blouse she was attempting to squeeze into.

"Well, it's what I say," Lisa continued airily. She was using the mirror inside her locker to style her hair. "And I say that becauuuuuse... I've found someone way better."

All movement practically came to a standstill, and Roxane knew why.

Whenever Lisa announced the latest boy she was preparing to snatch into her beguiling embrace, it pretty much went without saying that that particular specimen was considered off limits—even if that boy was currently ensnared in a relationship, he was considered single—so right now, all the girls were listening with more attention than they paid toward any of their classes, some of them possibly praying that her newest catch didn't happen to be one that they were currently eyeing.

And just as every girl knew Lisa's terms, they also knew those terms didn't apply to Roxanne, and so did Roxanne, so the same trepidation that gripped the other girls missed her completely as she stepped out of her gym shorts. Before she put them up, she comically entertained the idea that she might just have to leave these in Max's locker for him to finally catch all the hints she's been tossing his way.

_That would be so gross_, she thought to herself with an inward sigh, and she jumped, nearly into her locker, when several high-pitched voices rang out together:

"THE GOOF KID?"

Out of context, their exclamation meant nothing to Roxanne and she continued to dress, pulling on her signature green shirt, when Lisa closed her locker and spun around to face the others. "Don't disrespect him, he's not a _kid_—that there's a full-on _man_," she corrected with a dazed look in her eye, and she pressed both hands to her cheeks. "My future husband... Maximillian Goof."

Roxanne froze.

"Soooo, what... your legal name after the wedding would be Lisa Goof?" one of her friends smirked.

Hearing her name said like that caused Lisa to give this utterly girlish squeal of joy and she twirled on the spot. "Yes! Doesn't it just flow off the tongue?"

If Roxanne's opinion meant anything, no, no it didn't, not at all. Actually, that name hit the ear wrong and sounded all kinds of mismatched. Lisa didn't wear it right—she didn't _deserve_ to wear it. If Roxanne had a curiously gained reputation for being one of the school's most desirable girls, then Lisa's infamy came from the way she approached new potential mates, oftentimes simply devouring them for what they could buy her. While Lisa might not be with Chad anymore, there wasn't a doubt in Roxanne's mind that the choice to leave him went well beyond simply finding his hygiene routine appalling; she had been with him for over half the school year, after all, clearly there was something else at play that she didn't want mentioned.

The other girls hadn't caught the other end of Lisa's story. Roxanne had.

"Just say it out loud—wait, no... let _me_ do it. Lisa Goof... God, yes, _please_, thank you," Lisa continued dreamily, and she twirled on the spot, hands clasped over her heart now. "I've been watching him for the past couple of weeks, no one else is after him as far as I can tell so that means he's single and ready to be _mine_."

There was a collective sigh of relief from some of the other girls, although, to Roxanne's keen eye, she did notice how more than a couple looked shut-out or downright surly. It made her wonder... just how many of them had been attracted to Max?

_Look at me... acting like he's mine,_ Roxanne thought, but if she were honest, she already knew she felt that way. She felt Max was hers since first laying eyes on him at the beginning of the year, since so very long ago, and there wasn't anything anyone could say to make her think different.

"I feel like this is the beginning of a fresh start for me," Lisa gushed, and the sheer amount of genuine hope in her voice set Roxanne ablaze with indignation. What right did this girl have in not only laying claim to what was hers, but acting as though it was fine to use him as a springboard to this 'fresh start'? What was she even gabbing on about? "All this time I've been attracted to these... to these meatheads, ya know? Just these hulking, muscle-bound oafs with money out the ass—and yeah, I took advantage of 'em, who wouldn't? They only wanted one thing, it's all they ever wanted... well... so did I, and I got it. A _loooot_ of it. Were those some of my proudest moments ever? I'll admit it, nope. But!" she added, lifting a finger to the group of captivated girls, "I've learned, I've grown—and I'm just sick of it, honestly. Living that way."

Sifting her belt through the loops of her jean shorts, Roxanne listened to Lisa blather on and on about this stunning revelation about life that she was going through, that she was going to cement, and with each passing word, found herself growing utterly heated. So. Basically. This wanton girl who ran through guys like they were mascara wands was having a come-to-Jesus moment and planned on solidifying this newfound conviction by latching onto Max, did she?

No.

Not while Roxanne still breathed.

"Wait, wait, _pause_. Let me process this real quick... So what you're saying is—and correct me if I'm wrong here, but... you're trying to tell us that you're sick of being treated like a verifiable goddess and having entire sections of the mall bought out for you?" this one girl asked, regarding Lisa like she had just grown a third breast. "How _do_ you function, girl?"

"Very poorly, used to be," Lisa responded with far more honesty than either Roxanne or the others listening expected. "Look, I know how this sounds, all fifty shades of ungrateful and blardy blardy blar, but I'm outta that game. Seriously. Y'all can have it 'cause mm-mm-mmmm... I've found my happily-ever-after. When I look at Max with his cute buck-teeth... when I hear that retarded ass laugh... my hearts starts to race, and then I hafta find a quick change of panties."

It was funny in a raunchy sort of way, sure, and a round of laughter followed Lisa's frank admission, but the only one not laughing was the crimson-haired girl who had suddenly slammed her locker door shut.

The harsh bang cut the inane giggling like a hot knife through butter and nearly every head turned, Lisa included. The prima donna stared, a single eyebrow cocked, at first in surprise, then lowered into bemusement. "Well, well, well... if it isn't the Queen Bee herself, my—what do they call you again? My angelic alter ego, in the flesh!" she declared like an announcer signaling the arrival of a hero. "Any, uh... particular reason for that look, Rox'?"

The look Lisa was referring to had to be the utterly disgusted scowl that had carved its way through Roxanne's normally docile expression. Even Roxanne could feel it, that rictus searing her features, twisting them into something dredged up from the deepest pits of loathing she possessed.

And without any prior thought, without even a single ounce of restraint, Roxanne uttered two words she knew to be true but never imagined herself saying out loud, two words that left her lips in a nocuous whisper:

"_He's mine_."

In a hive mind of singularity, every girl reared back with a hand to their chests, some of them even making a squeezing motion while one brave girl in the back had the ovaries to whisper, "Just snatch my pearls, why do't you..."

"Well, funny thing about that," replied Lisa, looking the very picture of unbothered as she blew on her nails, "I don't see a ring on his finger. Not even one of those cute couples bracelets that I'm gonna get him. But let me tell you what _you're_ gonna see, Rox'. You're gonna see _me_, with my arms around Max's big, broad shoulders... and then you're gonna see me give that goof a kiss that'll knock his socks off."

Roxanne would have preferred Lisa had cursed her entire lineage to an early grave, spit in her face, maybe even be foolish enough to lay hands on her; anything would have been better than hearing those words leave _those_ lips. Those plump, over-glossed lips that had already kissed just about every popular boy in the school.

A modicum of regality found Roxanne in the few seconds she spent sizing Lisa up, visually staring her up and down in a crude fashion, and she merely hunched a shoulder. "After _I_ kiss him, I don't think he'll be requiring what amounts to a pair of community lips, Lisa."

This was partly the reason why none of the other girls gave Roxanne grief and indeed treated her with the same level of reverence as Lisa. Because her tongue was known to _cut_, and cut deeply judging by the gobsmacked expression on Lisa's face.

It only lasted for a second before being replaced with a false laugh.

"Fangs still as sharp as ever, I see," Lisa noticed with an acknowledging nod. "Definitely pointed at the wrong person, though..."

There was some lingering semblance of a threat there even though she knew, just as all the other girls did, that Roxanne wouldn't be touched by her, by them, or by anybody for that matter.

But Roxanne understood. Posturing was posturing, even when it was meaningless.

"Tell you what, my fair lady... since you seem so assured that my future husband is your future boyfriend, I'll do you a favor." The most crooked grin ever spread through Lisa's lips. "I'll let you go first."

While a few of the enraptured girls looked confused, Roxanne knew exactly what Lisa meant. She aimed to turn this into a competition. "Max's feelings aren't a game," she said stiffly, reaching up and curling a lock of hair around her finger.

This only widened Lisa's smirk. "Ha, you're doing that hair tick of yours, which means you're nervous, aren't you?" she surmised in a sickening sweet tone. "This's got nothin' to do with morals... and everything to do with _you_ not being able to stomach the absolute embarrassment of Max picking me over you. And, honestly, why wouldn't he? Girl, have you even _seen _me?" Lisa flourished a hand that she placed over her expansive chest. "I'm virtually your better in every way: my hair is flawless, my figure makes jaws drop, just one of my lick of lips cause boys to drool—"

"—and your number is scrawled over the walls of nearly every restroom this school has," continued Roxanne just as decisively. "Even the teachers. I mean, if this is what we're doing, we might as well list _all_ of your respectable achievements."

Several girls clapped a hand to their mouths, some of them even wincing under the sting of Roxanne's words, and they stared between the two clashing girls, almost able to see the lightning surging between their gazes.

For her part, that insult only phased Lisa by way of her scoffing. "Some guys love to share the wealth, what can I say?"

"Nothing really," Roxanne responded, "there's really no words for being the kind of girl you are."

"Oh? You mean the kind that's gonna be Max's future wife while you stand there looking crazy trying to st-st-stutter out a "hello?" Yeah, I'm gonna _love_ being that girl, Rox'."

Roxanne's nose twitched, her nostrils flared. "Too bad she doesn't exist. She never did. She never _will._"

After fixing Roxanne with a glare so heated that it could melt flesh, Lisa started to laugh. "Okay. Okay, Rox', fine," she said, lifting both hands in mock-defeat. "Clearly you have me in spoken word... and that's cool." For some reason, a pang of dread settled in the pits of Roxanne's stomach when Lisa began to smile quite serenely. "You can have that. I'm not even a sore loser about it. You take that, and I'll just have Max. _All_ of him."

That needle of dread had turned into a brick as Roxanne watched Lisa bite her bottom lip while using one of her perfectly manicured hands to playfully pat the area directly over her womanhood.

"Because he's definitely gonna have _all_ of me, Rox'. You know what that means, don't you?" Lisa whispered, and she was taking lithe steps toward Roxanne, walking with all the naturally allure of being on a runway. "Of course you do, Ms Smarty Pants know everything." She stopped only once she could stare down her nose, not at the top of Roxanne's head, but rather directly into Roxanne's fierce onyx eyes when the red-haired girl looked up, a clear sign she wasn't going to back down.

"I'm gonna fuck him, Rox'," Lisa said bluntly, and the sheer boldness of her claim caused Roxanne to blink, her ironclad expression faltering somewhat. Her reaction was far more composed than the girls surrounding them, howeve, as many of whom were now red in the face. "Slowly at first... give us time to get adjusted to each other's bodies, to let our souls intertwine... and then I'm gonna take that boy around the world and back. The things I do to him..."—she shuddered at the mere thought, beginning to flush slightly herself—"you wouldn't be able to match in your wildest dreams, no matter how hard you tried, no matter how much you practiced. 'Cause I'm a woman. And you're just a naive little girl who probably still cuddles a teddy bear to get to sleep. Can you even say the word 'dick' without passing out?"

"Dick," Roxanne responded evenly, "and allow me to use it in a sentence for you. Glamor girl Lisa has sucked so many dicks that one must have punctured her brain for her to even begin to think that Max is going to want a relationship with what amounts to a filthy doorknob."

What Roxanne expected and hoped to be her 'mic drop' moment, and quickly before her resolve crumbled like it was inwardly trying to do, something flashed in Lisa's eyes and she leaned down until they were eye-to-eye.

Then she starting making a vigorous motion with her hand that Roxanne tried her best not to acknowledge, despite the way her jaw visibly tightened.

"So, I guess you wouldn't mind if we shared his dick then, huh? I could get the left side, you take the right—then we take turns slurpin' his soul out," she offered hungrily, waggling her notoriously talented tongue. "The winner is whoever makes Max cum first."

_...Damn it._

Roxanne knew she had already won the war they were raging as there was no way Lisa could defeat her verbally, but this last battle, this last little petty salvo... deep down in her soul, as much as it pained her to admit—especially with Lisa giving that sinister smile—this round was lost. Not a single comeback leapt to her spinning mind; she could feel her teeth grinding and shoulders beginning to hunch up—

"I wonder what his cum would taste like?" Lisa questioned dreamily, and while tapping her bottom lip, she sounded completely sincere in her curiosity. She truly wanted to know and Roxanne could feel the heat of embarrassment building in her cheeks. This girl was so unabashedly wanton in her desires that it made Roxanne feel beyond uncomfortable.

And she knew why.

Because girls weren't supposed to act like that, so forward and lecherous. They were to supposed to be the exact opposite of boys: prim and reserved, calm and collected, sensible and uplifting, understanding and nurturing... and this girl, this tall, crude, voluptuous blonde-haired vixen was dismantling that code and spitting all over it.

"Oh? Does my widdle alter-ego have a problem talkin' about her fantasies?" Lisa's voice was like a taunting lament digging into Roxanne's consciousness. "I mean, hell, we all have 'em—ain't that right, girls?" she called to the others, many of whom either whistled or vocally agreed. "It's only normal... to wanna hear Max groaning as you slide him all the way in until he bottoms out... right, Rox'? You wanna know, right? The face he'd make as you bounce on top of him, gripping his chest..."

Somehow Lisa's lips and gotten right next to Roxanne's ear without her knowing, causing her to flinch when an exhale of steamy breath rolled down the side of her neck.

"And you know what happens when boys get _too_ excited, don't you?"

She didn't.

Lisa's smile was practically audible it was so twisted.

"They—

_BANG_.

Everyone jumped. The door to the locker room had been kicked open and a flood of natural lighting from the hallway spilled in, illuminating a lone figure in the entryway.

"W-what in the—" Lisa started, blinded by the sudden light, but she was pushed to the side, directly into the lockers, when whoever it was brushed past, grabbed Roxanne by the arm, and began pulling her through a sea of confused, half-dressed girls toward the exit.

"Roxanne, girl, geez, how long does it take to get dressed? You said you'd be in and out in _five_ minutes," the voice went on, clearly vexed. "It's been over twenty, TWENTY, Roxanne, and I swear, if we're late to our next class and I don't get the really good spritzer bottle that doesn't leak and my little organic tomatoes start to sag even just a _little_,I want it to be known that I'm kicking the butt of every single girl back there—with you as my shoe!"

The threat of being turned into a an instrument for mass ass-kicking did little to deter the thankful smile beaming from Roxanne's face. As Stacey continued to drag her toward their next class, the class they would most assuredly be late for, Roxanne could just about kiss her erratic best friend. She had saved her from Lisa and her prurient ways, saved her from hearing anymore of that... that...

_Well, it doesn't matter, _Roxanne thought forcefully as Stacey all but kicked open the door to their next class and snatched her inside. Her mind might be a swirling bedlam of all the things Lisa had said but Roxanne knew one thing for certain: the gauntlet had been thrown now. The race that she had wanted no part in for reasons both considerate and selfish was in full effect; she could feel the tension in the air like a growing storm.

Lisa was out for blood now.

_She won't have him, not if I—_

But Roxanne's firm train of thought was violently interrupted when Stacey suddenly exploded.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE GOOD SPRAY BOTTLES ARE GONE? But... b-but I—my tomatoes, they..."

When Stacey whipped around, hair floating in a dead wind and teeth grinding, the fire raging in her eyes almost made Roxanne wish she was back in the locker room.

"ROXANNNNNNE!"

Almost.

* * *

**A/N**: And that's the end of that.


End file.
